


Feral love

by SophieGraceJ



Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry 5, Far Cry: New Dawn
Genre: Bonding, F/M, Hope County's two heroes getting it on, Loss of Virginity, Male Deputy - Freeform, Smut, intense smut, rook likes big butts change my mind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-09 06:06:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17996354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophieGraceJ/pseuds/SophieGraceJ
Summary: The two of you were sitting by a newborn fire under the night sky, the world stiff and unmoving as you stared at the Judge on the other side of bright flames. You sat on the dirt, he on a log, like two friends camping out under starlight and a surreal rainbow of colours that never rested, never paused in that graceful dance.They -he, he didn’t look back at you, didn’t make a noise and for a moment you thought that maybe he hadn’t heard you, “I’ve heard so much about you. You were a hero, now you’re a legend to them and I can’t help but feel they see that potential in me, I don’t think I can do it though,” you whispered, not thinking much of it anymore.Then there was a growl, no, a word … a scrambled form of noise that was supposed to come out as something human. You looked up to see the masked eyes staring at you, you could almost feel the colour of them.





	Feral love

**Author's Note:**

> So, I don't know why but I had to write a smut piece for The Judge and Captain, I mean, maybe I'm just thirsty for rook, I have a thing for masks ... But in all seriousness, they are Hope County's two heroes and they deserve a break. Especially Rook, their character arc is incredibly tragic and I always feel an intense sadness when I'm with them in game, but also intense happiness, especially when they interact with the others, and pick flowers like little sweethearts XD 
> 
> Also sorry if this isn't top quality, let's just say I'm not known for good quality lol, my only excuse is I wrote this in a haze, I'm so tired, send help ...

Hope County was different. Different to the rest of the country, although mind you, you hadn’t seen it all, but it certainly felt like it. You had been under Rush’s wing for a while. Up the West Coast, till finally a flare in Montana blinded you all.   
Carmina needed help, Hope County needed help.

Hope county was different because even amidst absolute chaos, destruction and torment, there was hope. Funny. There was a spirit to the county, a presence that felt holy, that felt beyond human comprehension. It felt as if something like this had happened before, that you had taken up a prophecy, and this time you would succeed, you would beat the battle that someone in the past had failed. 

That’s when you met Joseph Seed and the New Edeners. That’s when you met The Judge…

Something drew you to The Judge. Was it the mask? The mystery, the sorrow and gloom in the shape of that mask. The lines and scars traced into a bit of wood. The nothingness in those eyes, the eyes you could barely see. 

The animalistic grunts and voiceless words. Who were they? Who did they use to be? What happened to them? To make them so distant from human, more animal than even the highwaymen, more animal than man. 

The Judge was a man though, deep down.

You could tell at least that much, their grunts and groans, huffs of air and sighs were too deep, had that edge to it, masculine. The way they walked, they way they carried themselves beneath all that armour. 

You heard talk of a deputy, a young rook who had come to save Hope County before the bombs dropped. Hearing the stories, it punctured a nerve in you, it was eerie. 

Like there really was some kind of prophecy. Grace, Nick and Kim, Jerome, Sharky and Hurk … whenever they looked at you, there was a glimmer of remembrance in their eyes. All unique to their just as unique features, seeing something different each time, yet it always traced back to something older than you, something before your time. At first you told yourself it was nothing. Afterall, you weren’t that much older than Carmina, only a few years between the two of you, maybe they saw a young girl more often than a captain of security. Maybe that was what they saw, when the ever-present sadness blessed, no cursed, their eyes. 

No. They saw whoever that Deputy man was. 

They say he was young, too naïve and stubborn. Too hopeful, wouldn’t stop until he could save everyone, they say he could be arrogant - only because he cared too much. He just wanted to save everyone, but they say that was his downfall. 

Would it be your downfall? Is that what they saw in you? Were they afraid you’d be another Deputy? Another hero to fail and lead the world into darkness, to lead Prosperity to ashes and dust?

It kept you up at night, every night. An emptiness in you growing, were you just making everything worse? 

The only person you could find comfort in was The Judge. 

They didn’t say much and you preferred that over someone seeing the hesitance and distress in you, and acting on it. You didn’t want that. You just wanted to do your job and help as many as you could. 

That’s when two and two came together… When you and the masked figure would wander the saturated lands of Hope, when they would remain silent and watch deer and small animals run past like it was the only thing that mattered. 

Joseph had said The Judge’s only language was violence, but the more you watched, the more you saw, the more you realised there was a gentleness in them. A desire to save people. To listen and judge without prejudice, without bias. 

They had changed. He had changed. 

That’s what they all said to him. 

What happened to you my friend? 

Deputy …

“You’re that deputy they talk about, aren’t you?” 

The two of you were sitting by a newborn fire under the night sky, the world stiff and unmoving as you stared at the Judge on the other side of bright flames. You sat on the dirt, he on a log, like two friends camping out under starlight and a surreal rainbow of colours that never rested, never paused in that graceful dance. 

They -he, he didn’t look back at you, didn’t make a noise and for a moment you thought that maybe he hadn’t heard you, “I’ve heard so much about you. You were a hero, now you’re a legend to them and I can’t help but feel they see that potential in me, I don’t think I can do it though,” you whispered, not thinking much of it anymore. 

Then there was a growl, no, a word … a scrambled form of noise that was supposed to come out as something human. You looked up to see the masked eyes staring at you, you could almost feel the colour of them … Sometimes you’d catch a glimpse of hazel, the colour of soil, of earth. It’d depend on the lighting and how close you were to him. A shiver traversed the length of your spine at the thought. 

He noticed. His hand twitching in his lap, fingers flickering up and down with adrenaline. Your lips thinned at the sight, your chest heaved up and down at the same pace of their fingers, as if he was playing your lungs, plucking at the strings of a guitar. 

“I don’t believe what the New Edeners say about you, what Joseph says.” He flinched, a guttural sound coming from behind that mask, was it anger or regret? “I, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that … I just, when I look at you, I see more than what they say. I guess in a way, I look up to you,” you said, digging your fingers and nails into the soft dirt beside you, afraid to meet his gaze. You could feel it on your skin, stretching from your face to your collarbones, lower and lower, until they met where your hands trembled in the ground. 

Another huff of noise. His eyes hotter than that fire as they traced every bit of you, your chest rising and falling faster, with more power. Sweat dribbled down from behind your ears, slithering along your neck. Mouth open, you looked up again to see his head was leaned to the side, like a curious animal.

How old was he? What did he look like behind that mask? What would he sound like without that wood muffling his mouth? Were his lips soft or harsh? Was he scarred? How strong was he? Oh, you knew he was strong, you’d seen him kill the highwaymen. 

Another sound came from the mask, and it provoked you into sighing a whimper like noise. His hand clenched into a fist and the air thickened. The fire reached out to you, following a sudden breeze and attempting an escape. 

An escape…

You needed to get away from yourself. Maybe he did too. 

You stood abruptly, just as abrupt as the sudden desire for something you rarely thought about, hardly understood and had never done. To give yourself to someone. Just a taste, maybe it was selfish but it was the first selfish thing you would do in the land of Hope. 

A brass sigh rumbled behind the wooden mask as his legs spread apart, arms reaching behind the log he sat on. You walked slowly towards him, feeling naked under his stare that enraptured your entire body, those eyes took in all of you. He was the Judge after all. 

“I … I want you to.” Voice broken, you didn’t know what to say but he seemed to know, his gloved hands reaching up to your hips, he was lithe and tall, almost lanky. His reach was far from where he sat, but his fingers were attentive and delicate, rubbing circles into the thin singlet, then under it, you gasped when the feel of him touched your skin. 

He stood, a head taller than you, your neck craned slightly and suddenly what you had once thought was more animal than man was now more human and real, palpable than anyone you’d ever met. 

His gloved hands pushed and pulled at you, not unkindly, and you let him, not just because you knew he probably hadn’t touched anyone like this in many years, but because you’d never been touched like that before. 

Your senses were on the loose, it was so new and it resonated with every single desire you had but didn’t know or understand. You wavered from leg to leg, unbalanced and so grasped his shoulders and fell into him, he was warm and smelled like earth. You laughed into his fur armour, just beneath the crook of his neck. 

“I’ve never, never done this before,” you mumbled into him, and you couldn’t decide on what his response was … on the brink of a rough, distorted chuckle, or a predatory growl. His palms squeezed onto every bit of flesh and fat he could. Your waist, hips, ass, breasts and you sung to him in quiet moans, a darkness in you wanting to make him lose control. 

You pressed into him, and smoothed your fingers down his body, his heart beat fast and veins ran hot, he was so much more real and alive under your hands, “Please, please take off your gloves. I want your skin.” 

A moment of hesitance and the gloves were off. His hands were calloused, but no scars, relatively flawless like carved stone, they slivered under your shirt and up to your chest. Your back arched, pushing the two of you closer, a moan fell from your lips and a growl fell from his. 

Slowly you lost your armour of jeans and a singlet, standing bare in just panties you had been given back in Prosperity. He liked them. Spun you around so that your ass was pressed into his groin, into his hardness. Calloused fingers stretching the gentle material out like elastic, releasing until it slapped into your skin, ass wobbling from the attack. He groaned in your ear. 

The thought of being found like this in the middle of nowhere didn’t cross your mind once, too focused on the way he felt on you. You hadn’t imagined it to feel the way it did, it was much more intoxicating to feel him so intimately. 

You cowered into him, the cold breeze finally creeping up on your already shivering skin, he took the chance and slid his hand into the front of your panties, to the wet and slick, his fingers sliding up and down. Your hips bucked, ass colliding with his hardness. 

“Lo-louder …” 

Being so close you could make out the broken words he voiced into your ears. Louder, louder. Obedient as ever you followed orders. A song of whimpers and moans. The fire was out by the time he was done playing with you, his prey, the wind had gotten stronger but you had him to shield you from the cold, he was so warm. 

Your clothes and jacket laid out on the ground like some kind of shitty mattress, you sprawled out on it, his body falling perfectly into place above you, mask lifted up just enough so he could attack your lips with open-mouthed kisses. He tasted sweet, like apples … like a forbidden fruit, the one you had eaten. The one Joseph had gifted you. 

“Take off your mask, please, I wanna see you …” 

You begged it over and over but he continued to ignore, kissing down your neck to your chest to your stomach and then lower yet. All you could see were the hollowed-out eyes and you couldn’t bear it. 

“I won’t look. Just take off your mask, I’ll close my eyes.” 

You felt his laugh on your tummy, he bit at your skin before seeming to consider your proposal. It was stupid, childish, but the idea of him not having to wear that horrid mask wouldn’t escape your impulsive head, and he knew it. 

That’s why he flipped you onto your stomach, placed the mask right in front of you and pushed his hardness into your softness. There was some resistance, it hurt as he pushed in, took a while to adjust but it didn’t stop the breathless noises coming from your mouth. 

The pleasure was bliss, pushed away everything else. You got away from yourself, he got away from himself, it was laced in his every growl, in the collision of his groin and your ass. He could finally be human. 

In the blindness of your finish, of the overpowering tremor from below that zapped up into your chest, burning you alive, you imagined what they would say if they ever found out that you had somehow gotten the Judge to take off his mask, to let in the Deputy that maybe have been broken, shattered, but still very much real. 

Hope County still had hope, and it still had its Deputy alongside a new captain.


End file.
